For the sake of peace, she gritted her teeth and said nothing. No need to hand him further ammunition.
The ever-darkening sky didn’t bode well. Mariah noted that Christian was watching it closely. He radioed Fairbanks and wrote down the necessary weather information.
“Is there any chance we’ll run into a storm?” she asked once they’d started to taxi down the gravel runway.
She expected him to make light of her concern, but he didn’t. “According to the flight controller, we should be able to fly above the worst of it. Don’t worry, I’ll get you to Fairbanks on time.”
Or die trying, Mariah mused darkly. She gritted her teeth again and held on for dear life as the single-engine furiously increased its speed. Soon they were roaring down the runway, and at what seemed the last possible second, the plane’s nose angled toward the sky and the wheels left the ground.
As soon as they were airborne, Mariah relaxed slightly. The flight would take the better part of an hour, possibly a bit longer, depending on the winds.
Within a few minutes, they were swallowed up by the unfriendly clouds. Mariah couldn’t see two feet in front of them, but that might have been just as well.
Trying to relieve her tension, she closed her eyes.
“If you feel yourself getting sick,” Christian said, “let me know.”
“I’m fine,” she assured him.
“Your eyes are closed.”
“I know.” Her fingers gripped the edge of the seat cushion as she concentrated on breathing evenly.
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want to look!” she snapped.
Christian chuckled and seemed to enjoy her discomfort. “I haven’t crashed in more than a year,” he teased. “But now that you mention it, I’m probably due for a big one.”
Suddenly the plane began to pitch first to one side, then the other.
“Don’t, please,” Mariah begged.
“I’m not doing this on purpose,” Christian muttered.
Mariah opened her eyes and saw that he was actually struggling to maintain control. “I’m trying to get us above the clouds. Don’t worry, everything’s well in hand.”
The plane pitched sharply to the right and she swallowed a gasp. Although she’d flown in small planes a number of times since coming to work for Midnight Sons, she remained nervous about it—more than ever now, when they were flying directly into a storm.
“Are you all right?” Christian asked a minute later.
“Just fly the plane,” she said over the noise of the engine.
“You’re pale as a sheet,” he said.
“Stop worrying about me.”
“Listen,” he returned, “I’m not going to be able to fly the plane and revive you.”
“If I pass out—” she squeezed her eyes shut “—don’t worry about me.”
The plane heaved. She gasped aloud and covered her face with both hands.
“Mariah,” Christian said gently. “Everything will be fine in a few minutes. Trust me.” He patted her arm reassuringly.
Usually when he spoke to her, Christian was impatient or sharp. Half the time she wasn’t even sure what crime she was supposed to have committed. But for reasons she’d probably never understand, today, when she needed it most, he’d chosen to reveal this softer side.
Judging by the feel of the plane, Mariah knew they were increasing altitude. Within minutes they’d be above the squall and everything would be fine. Just as he’d promised.
“You can look now,” Christian told her.
She splayed her fingers and peeked through. Bright sunlight greeted her, and she sighed deeply, relaxing in her seat. The weather couldn’t be more perfect.
They traveled in silence for a while.
“Does your boyfriend know you don’t like to fly?” Christian’s question startled her.
“My boyfriend?” she asked, genuinely perplexed until she remembered that he’d seen her with Duke.
“In case you’re interested, lover boy made quite a stink when I told him he wouldn’t be flying you into Fairbanks.” The disapproval was back in Christian’s voice.
Mariah looked out the side window. “No matter what you think, Duke and I are not involved.”
“Yeah, that’s what he said, too.” The skepticism in his voice was plain.
“It’s the truth,” she insisted.
“Duke claims you kissed him.”
He appeared to be waiting for her to deny or confirm the statement. “I did—in a manner of speaking.”
Christian snorted a laugh. “I’ll say. You seem to forget I walked in on the two of you with your lips locked.”
“It wasn’t like that,” Mariah said heatedly. “I’d been on the phone with Tracy—”
“On company time?”
“Yes,” she admitted reluctantly. He could dock her pay if he wanted.
“Go on,” he encouraged.
“Tracy and Duke don’t get along.”
Christian laughed again. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“She, Tracy, thought it would be fun if I kissed Duke and said it was from her, and that’s what I did. It was all teasing—a joke.”
Christian didn’t comment.
“Do you believe me?” she asked. It was important that he do so. They had their differences, but trust was a vital factor in any relationship, whether it was work or personal.
“Yeah,” Christian admitted grudgingly, “I guess I do. But you should know something in case you have any, uh, romantic feelings for Duke. He’s got a girlfriend in Fairbanks. And he swore to me he’s a one-woman man—one at a time, anyway.”
“It doesn’t matter to me how many girlfriends Duke’s got.” Although Mariah was surprised. This was the first she’d heard of Duke being romantically involved with anyone. But then, he was a private person and not inclined to share such things with her.
Just when she’d finally relaxed enough to be comfortable, they approached Fairbanks. As soon as the plane descended into the clouds, Mariah stiffened.
“Hey, you aren’t going to tense up on me again, are you?”
“Yes, I am.” No point in denying it. She closed her eyes as her fingers reshaped the upholstery.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be down in no time.” He was busy after that, communicating with the tower and manipulating the controls.
True to his word, they touched down in a textbook-perfect landing a few minutes later and taxied to the hangar where Midnight Sons kept a truck.
Neither of them seemed ready to leave the plane. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Christian asked, and his gaze settled on her. All at once the atmosphere was charged with excitement. Never had Mariah been so physically aware of him, and he seemed to be experiencing the same reaction to her.
“You’re right. The flight wasn’t bad at all,” she said, realizing how breathless she sounded. “Thank you,” she murmured.
She meant to open the door and climb out, but Mariah found that her body refused to function. Suddenly Christian leaned close, so close the distance between their mouths became too slight to measure.
She wasn’t sure what to think, what to do. She stopped breathing and was convinced Christian did, too. Gradually he eased forward until his mouth grazed hers. His touch was tender. Light. And all too brief.
The effect was, somehow, more devastating than if they’d engaged in a lengthy, passionate kiss.
Christian reared back as if she’d slapped him.
Mariah savored the exquisite sensation of that kiss. This was what she’d wanted from the first, what she’d been longing for.
Christian opened the door just then, and a rush of air instantly cooled the interior of the plane.
Mariah didn’t wait for him to come around and help her down. She did notice that he couldn’t seem to get her luggage out of the plane fast enough.
Once they were inside the truck and headed for the terminal, Christian cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to attach
any…importance to what happened back there,” he said brusquely.
“I…won’t.”
“I didn’t mean to do that. It…well, it just happened.”
Regret. He had to go and ruin the most perfect moment of her life with regret.
STUPID, STUPID, STUPID. Christian didn’t know what in the world had possessed him to kiss Mariah. Four days later, and he couldn’t keep from dwelling on their last moments alone in the plane.
Although he’d analyzed the kiss over and over, he couldn’t make sense of it. Not once in the entire year Mariah had been employed by Midnight Sons had the thought of kissing her even entered his mind.
Yet in those awkward moments after they’d landed and taxied off the Fairbanks runway, Christian could think of nothing else. The temptation had become too much for him.
Nothing like complicating his life—and he had no one to blame but himself. True, he’d made an effort to put it behind them, but only a blind man would’ve missed the stars in Mariah’s eyes.
That was the trouble with women. You kissed them a time or two, and they seemed to think it meant something. Well, he wanted to make one thing clear right now. He was not—repeat, not—interested in Mariah Douglas. He didn’t even like the woman. If he could find a legal means of getting her completely out of his life, he’d leap at the opportunity.
“You aren’t looking too happy,” Sawyer announced as he walked past Christian’s desk to his own.
“I’m fine!” he snapped. The last thing he wanted was for Sawyer to learn about that stupid kiss.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you missed Mariah.”
Christian snickered loudly. “Have you noticed how well everything’s gone this week?” he asked. He hoped to convince Sawyer that the office had run like clockwork without her. Maybe, just maybe, Sawyer would see reason and agree to do away with the position.
“It’s been hectic,” Sawyer argued.
“Well, we’ve been busier than usual,” Christian conceded. “But have you stopped to notice how peaceful it is around here? And how we’ve had no major problems?”
Sawyer nodded.
Perhaps this wasn’t going to be as difficult as Christian had assumed. “We don’t need Mariah.”
His brother sent him a disgusted look. “Don’t need Mariah? Sure, we’ve managed without her, but I have to tell you, this place has been hopping. We’re getting more business all the time. If everything’s running smoothly, then it’s because Mariah oiled the gears before she left. I don’t know about you, little brother, but I’m counting the hours until she returns.”
Christian cursed under his breath. He was counting the hours himself, but not for the same reason.
“Don’t need Mariah?” Sawyer repeated in the same tone of disbelief he’d used a minute earlier. “Tell that to Abbey and the kids. I’ve been late for dinner every night this week. I don’t like working this hard. I’ve got a wife and family I’d like to see once in a while.”
The phone pealed, and Sawyer glared at Christian, who was concentrating on tallying a row of figures. “Since you’ve got so much free time on your hands, you can answer that.”
Christian scowled and reached for the telephone.
“DUKE’S GOT A GIRLFRIEND?” Tracy Santiago asked Mariah as they sat outside the Kenai Lodge and enjoyed the sunshine. “You’ve got to be kidding.” Tracy didn’t bother to disguise her shock. “What woman would put up with that chauvinistic character for more than five minutes?”
“I don’t know. I’m just repeating what Christian told me. It’s funny, though,” she said, thinking out loud. “Duke’s never mentioned anyone.”
Tracy raised her face to the sun and grumbled something Mariah couldn’t make out.
“Duke’s not so bad.”
Tracy straightened and sipped her margarita. “The man’s a public nuisance. Let’s change the subject, okay? He has a bad effect on my blood pressure.”
Mariah lay back in the lawn chair. They’d spent four full days sightseeing. Every minute of every day had been full, and Mariah was exhausted; so was Tracy.
Now was the time to relax. Mariah didn’t want to think about Hard Luck—and particularly not about Christian. This was her vacation, and she was determined to make the most of it.
“Mmm, this is the life,” Tracy said, closing her eyes and smiling into the sun. “A woman could get used to this.”
Mariah smiled, too. Although most of their communication had been by phone and mail, she knew her friend all too well. Tracy would soon grow bored lazing around a swimming pool; before a week was past, she wouldn’t be able to stand the inactivity. She’d be eager to get back to her job.
“You surprise me,” Tracy said out of the blue.
“I do?” Mariah asked. “How?”
Tracy grinned sheepishly. “Well, when your parents first contacted me, they described you as this delicate hothouse flower who didn’t have a clue what she was letting herself in for.”
“That’s how they see me.” It saddened Mariah to admit that. Her family’s attitude was the very reason she’d left Seattle. They considered her helpless and inept, and if she’d stayed much longer she might have come to believe it herself.
“You really love it in Hard Luck, don’t you?”
“Oh, yes. This has been the most…” Mariah hesitated, unsure how to explain what her year in the Arctic community had been like. She felt proud of her own ability to survive in difficult surroundings, especially during the winter when the temperature dropped to forty below. True, there were times she’d been lonely and confused. Depressed. At other times she’d felt a new confidence, a newly developed sense of self that was unlike anything she’d ever experienced. After a year in the Arctic, she knew she was capable of handling any situation. She’d learned to trust her own judgment and to take pride in her achievements.
But her nonrelationship with Christian continued to baffle her, although her attraction to him grew more potent with each passing month. Unfortunately he didn’t seem to share her feelings. But then again, perhaps he did…The kiss gave her hope.
“When you told me you’d decided to stay in Hard Luck, I admired you,” Tracy said with a thoughtful look. “I admired you for taking charge of your life and for not being afraid to do something risky.”
Mariah squirmed under her praise. “It’s no more than the other women have done—Abbey and Karen and Lanni. Bethany Ross and Sally Henderson.”
“You’re good friends with them, aren’t you?”
“It’s like they’re part of my family,” Mariah said. But better. The women who’d come to Hard Luck were a close-knit group, out of necessity but also genuine liking. They relied on and supported each other in every possible way. In the dead of winter, when sunlight disappeared and spirits fell, it was the women who brought joy and laughter to the community. She’d known these women for only a year, but her friendships with them were closer now than the friendships she’d left behind.
“What do you miss most?” Tracy asked next.
That question took some consideration. She wouldn’t lie; there were certainly aspects of city life that she yearned for, services and stores and all kinds of things that weren’t available in Hard Luck.
Things like first-run movies, her favorite junk food, shopping malls…But how much did any of that really matter?
“What do I miss most?” Mariah repeated slowly. “I’m thinking, Trace…”
“That, my friend, is answer enough,” the attorney said. She sounded almost wistful.
CHRISTIAN SET ASIDE the murder mystery he was reading and forcefully expelled his breath. He couldn’t seem to concentrate, although the author was one of his favorites.
Tomorrow evening, Mariah would be back, and frankly he dreaded her return. Despite his warning, he was sure she’d be foolish enough to put some stock in that stupid kiss. He tried to put her out of his mind, something he’d been struggling to do all week.
Mariah wasn’t the only wom
an who’d been on his mind lately. Funny that he’d be thinking of Allison Reynolds now. But again and again he found himself comparing his current secretary to the one who got away.
Every time the statuesque blonde drifted into his thoughts, Christian felt his heart work like a blacksmith’s bellows.
In the year since she’d gone home to Seattle, he’d never called. More fool he. When they first met, they’d dated—nothing serious, just a couple of dinners while he’d been in Seattle conducting business and setting up job interviews. He remembered those evenings with Allison in a haze of pleasure.
He was due to go back to the Northwest, strictly for business purposes, anytime now. He’d been discussing the trip with Sawyer just that morning. Generally they took turns going to Seattle to arrange for supplies, but with Abbey pregnant and the kids getting ready to head back to school, Sawyer wasn’t eager to leave Hard Luck. Christian was.
For one thing, he’d have a chance to visit his mother, who lived in Vancouver, British Columbia. He had a special bond with Ellen. While Charles and Sawyer were more like their father in looks and temperament, Christian had always been closer to his mother.
As a boy, he’d spent eighteen months with her in England. The years before the separation had been difficult for his parents. Christian, only ten at the time, hadn’t understood what was happening to his family.
All he knew was that his mother was desperately unhappy. More than once he’d found her weeping, and in his own way had attempted to comfort her. When she told him she was leaving Alaska, Christian had known immediately that he should go with her. His mother would need him, he thought—and she had.
Saying goodbye to his father and brothers was hard, and he’d missed them far more than he’d dreamed possible. In the beginning, he’d enjoyed living in England, but that hadn’t lasted long. He missed Alaska. He missed his home, his brothers and the life he’d always known, and he suspected his mother did, as well.
After a year and a half, they’d flown back to Hard Luck, and for a time, a very brief time, they’d been a family again, and happy.
Christian had never fully understood what had shattered that fragile joy, but he realized Catherine Fletcher was somehow responsible. She was gone now and his father was, too. A few years ago Ellen had remarried; her second husband was a wonderful man who shared her passion for literature. She’d moved to his home in British Columbia.